For Eragon
by LadyBird
Summary: Brom has no regrets. Arya allows no regrets. Murtagh has plenty of regrets. But also determination and dreams. Three part series about different characters reflecting what Eragon means to them.
1. My Dream

**Disclaimer:** Not mine  
**Rating:** T, to stay on the safe side  
**Warnings:** deathfic, but only if you know the situation  
**Pairing:** hints of kind of onesided Brom/Eragon  
**Summary:** Brom has no regrets  
**A/N:** First in a three-part series about different character reflecting what Eragon means for them (Brom, Murtagh, Arya)

Music to go with this ficlet: John Denver "Flying for Me" (Makes me think of Brom, Saphira and Eragon)

**My Dream**

Have you ever had a dream? A dream so great and deep that it defines your whole being? A dream so immense it eats up everything you are and it's still not enough because there's almost nothing you can do to make it come true? And at the same time it feels like it doesn't even have to come true - as long as you still carry the dream in your heart?

Mine was of dragons.

I remember the time they soared in the skies of Alagaesia. I remember the freedom of the flight, the joy of discarding the bounds of soil and rising above the earth, together. I remember being a part of the whole.

Not the end of Galbatorix's rule, not the victory of the Varden, not the freedom for the people of Alagaesia - no, my dream was the return of the dragons. And for that dream I was ready to sacrifice everything. Everything - the lives of the people of Carvahall, the life of the princess of Ellesmera, my own life - what was left of it. I think that if it would have made my dream come true I would have sacrificed the Varden.

All for them. The Dragon and her Rider. Saphira. Eragon. I would have sacrificed everything for Saphira for she was - almost - my dream come true. I would have sacrificed everything for Eragon for he was the Rider and the only hope for Alagaesia. They were important for me because of that.  
If you tell yourself something often enough, you will finally, perhaps, start to believe it. At least I almost did. It was easier than to face myself. My heart.

When my Saphira died my heart died with her. I lived for revenge and when I killed Morzan there was nothing left to live for. The Varden and their words about three eggs gave me my dream and at least some hope for the future - but nothing could give me my heart back. I was so sure of it until a boy growing up under my very eyes did that without even noticing it. He was a child still then - and I was afraid. Afraid of what was happening, afraid of what I felt, afraid of what might be though if I slipped - even a little. So I kept away. Avoidance is always the easiest way eve though it never solves a thing.

He was the light in my darkness and when my eyes saw his light I burned. I watched from afar until I saw him become the embodiment of my dream and the choice was taken from me. He needed me - and I went.

I spoke the truth of my soul when I told Eragon his life was the most important thing there was. I just was not talking about the Varden. Oh, for them, too, the life of a Rider and his dragon were of great importance, but for me it was the life of _Eragon_... His life is the most precious thing to me in this world. Not only because he is the Rider, but foremost because he is Eragon.  
I was ready to sacrifice everything, to do everything in my power to make sure he lived. And in this, my final task, I succeeded. There might be many failures in my life, greatest of them the death of my Saphira, but Eragon _lives_. He lives - and so does his Saphira.

In this I am luckier than most people - I have seen my dream coming true. I have seen the dragon flying in the skies of Alagaesia again.

I have no regrets - Eragon and Saphira will go on living and one day my dream shall be truly fulfilled.

Still, I am sorry I won't be there to see what they will become.


	2. My Duty

**_Ficlet: Eragon: My Duty (Arya)_**  
**Fandom:** Eragon  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine  
**Rating:** K+, I suppose  
**Warnings:** bit angsty?  
**Pairing:** hints of considered Eragon/Arya  
**Summary:** Arya allows no regrets

**A/N:** This was not what I planned to write. When I started this fic I had an idea of a ficlet where Arya thinks about her love for Eragon and angsts over the difficulty of human-elf relatsionships (aka – I planned to write a canon pairing for a change), but is hopeful despite everything. What I actually wrote, however… But I like it.

**My Duty**

You came to me in the hour of my darkest despair. You came to me when my world consisted of nothing but darkness and pain. You came to me and brought me into the daylight again. Even with the poisin coursing through my veins and the cold of death creeping into my very being I felt the warmth of your hands. I remember your voice, the sound of your heartbeats - and how did I ever hear that? I remember your dragon's body moving under me as I was carried off into freedom… and life.

Out of the death and into the life - you are one to give me life as much as my mother is, you and Saphira both.

You did more than save me, you see. You gave me the knowledge that i had not failed. From the day Durza captured me I existed with the knowledge that I had mishandled the task given to me. I had lost the egg – I had lost the last hope the people of Alagaesia had for freedom.

_I_ had failed…

And then you came. Eragon. _Shur'tugal. _And you made my failure a victory.

Thank you, Eragon. It was my duty to guard the egg. I failed at it. It is now my duty to guard you and Saphira – a duty that no one has assigned to me, a duty that I have undertaken of my own will, of my own knowledge – and I swear on everything that I have ever held dear and on everything I ever will that in this task I _will not_ fail.

I shall guard your life and wellbeing with my whole self. And when I cannot be there to guard you I shall make sure that those who stand in my stead shall be up to their task. They will know what their duty is – as do I.

I know you do not agree, but Eragon – guarding you, bearing any wounds, even dying to make sure you and Saphira will live – it is a privilege. Do not deny us it. You and Saphira – you are our hope. Please forgive us, please forgive me, for placing this burden on you. Saphira chose you. You are the symbol, you are the hope - and people need hope. _I_ need hope…

I shall protect you. From everything I can, even from… I am sorry, Eragon…

No tale of love between an elf and a man has ever had a happy ending. Even if they both were Riders. We are too alien, too far from each other. Our magic, our minds… Although with what the dragons gifted to you… No, I will not allow that risk, I cannot allow it, not for you, not for…me.

It is my duty to make sure you live and fight. I _will not_ place you in danger not matter how much I might be tempted to.

Not even for love.


	3. My Destiny

**Disclaimer:** Not mine  
**Rating:** T, to stay on the safe side  
**Warnings:** angst, sap, OOC (I didn't plan to, but...)  
**Pairing:** if you want to, you can get kind of one-sided Eragon/Murtagh out of it.  
**Summary:** Murtagh has plenty of regrets. But also determination and dreams.  
**A/N:** Third and final in a three-part series about different character reflecting what Eragon means for them (Brom, Arya, Murtagh)

**My Destiny**

When I was small I dreamed of dragons. Dragons meant power and freedom and having control of one's destiny the way I never had. I dreamed of dragons like I imagined them – free and wise and powerful and kind... Nothing like my father's or the King's dragon. For the bond between the dragon and the rider is too deep for them not to be alike to each other. So when the King and my father were overwhelmed and lost in their madness and ambition and cruelty so were their dragons.

No, the dragons I dreamed of were nothing like the ones I knew.

And I dreamed of dragonriders. In my imagination they were powerful and wise and free, too. And they were good fighters – able to protect themselves and those they cared for from the violence of the others. Able to parry all the sword-hits thrown at them, able to strike back. In my dreams I was one of them. And I was nothing like my father or the King.

When I was small I dreamed of dragons and dragonriders and yearned for them.

When I grew up I met another dragon. She was everything I had ever dreamed a dragon could be. She was free and could soar high above the ground. She was powerful and wise. And her eyes shone with kindness. She was beautiful, oh so beautiful. She was my dream come to life.

And I met a dragonrider. He was nothing like I had imagined a dragonrider should be.

He didn't look powerful. He was not really a good fighter. And he was not particularly wise. But he was kind, too. Towards the elf in trouble – and towards me. Too kind, perhaps. Certainly too trusting. But he was the first to show me kindness since my mother had left.

No, Eragon was nothing like I had imagined a dragonrider should be, but in time the image I had created in my childhood dreams was replaced by the image of him.

I gave up my freedom to follow him, I gave myself into the power of others although I had sworn never to let that repeat again – all to sty with him.

He became the embodiment of my dream.

Then my life changed again and I found myself faced with duty. Duty to my dragon – to survive, to find a way to live with what I was doing, to ensure the best possible life for _us_. For now there was an _us_ and it could never be like it had been before. I never would have wanted it to, no matter what. I became a dragonrider – and I finally understood Eragon. At least I want to think I did.

I tried to be worthy of the image in my mind but often found myself to be instead alike to those I despised. Perhaps it is, in the end, the only way I know to be.

And my life was not mine anymore.

I had a duty to my King who had bound me against my will – but had also given me the greatest gift in all Alagaesia. I would like the things to be different – but if things being different would mean never joining with Thorn – I do not know what I would choose. I do not wish to serve Galbatorix, but he holds me in his grip surer than if I was bound in chains in his dungeon.

And, finally, I found myself having duty to my brother. It seems impossible that I did not know you – but really, it would have been improbable to recognize you, Eragon.

One of the Varden. Shadeslayer. Dragonrider. My little brother.

And so I fight against you and yours under the orders of my King. In my heart my first duty is to you – but I can not fulfill it. What should I do? What should I have done? Died? I was not allowed to. I did not wish to. I still do not wish to. Because of Thorn. Because of myself. Because of you. Because I want to see us flying free in the sky, side by side, Eragon and Murtagh, Saphira and Thorn.

I do not want to die, Eragon. But I know I can not kill you, even to save myself and Thorn.

Eragon – you are my dream and my duty. And whatever you shall bring me – life...or death – you are my destiny.

**The End**


End file.
